


but still a paradise.

by servilesammy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Sam, Established Relationship, Feminization, Feminized Sam Winchester, Hair-pulling, Lolita Sam, M/M, Oral Sex, POV Dean Winchester, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sam is 15, Top Dean, Top Dean Winchester/Bottom Sam Winchester, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 02:09:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15353880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/servilesammy/pseuds/servilesammy
Summary: Sam's gonna kill him. He's only 15 and his long legs are always bare, smooth, poking out from little shorts or lacy panties. Only 15 and his velvety thighs are always spread for his brother, only for his brother. 15 and he knew every twist of his hips, every gasped word, every flick of his tongue that drove Dean crazy, that made him fuck harder into his little brother.





	but still a paradise.

**Author's Note:**

> "I still dwelled deep in my elected paradise - a paradise whose skies were the color of hell-flames - but still a paradise.” -Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita
> 
> Find me on tumblr at servilesammy

Sam's gonna kill him. He really is. He's only 15 and his long legs are always bare, smooth, poking out from little shorts or lacy panties. Only 15 and his velvety thighs are always spread for his brother, only for his brother; Dean's stubble scratched them raw and ruined Sammy's picture (or porn) perfect skin. 15 and he knew every twist of his hips, every gasped word, every flick of his tongue that drove Dean crazy, that made him fuck harder into his little brother. Sam was pushing his brother farther into Tartarus, damning him with every moan and hair-pulling orgasm, but Dean couldn't find it in himself to care.

Today Sam pads over to where he sits, dressed in some tiny cut-off shorts he got from God knows where. He stands right there in front of Dean, sin incarnate, waiting for his brother to put down the gun he's been cleaning in his lap. Dean lets him stew for a moment, long fingers fidgety against his sides, before putting everything aside and opening his arms in invitation. Sam crawls over him, straddles his hips, pulls Dean's mouth to his and slips tongue behind teeth. Dean's hands clasp themselves around Sammy's skinny waist, drift under his shirt and over washboard ribs so his thumbs can swipe eager dashes across the younger's nipples.

Sam tips his head back as he whines, hard-on pressed against Dean's, and Dean tilts his head to nose at the other's pulse point, tongue tracing it before subtly nipping. He ducks his head to draw hickeys over Sam's collar bones, Sam moaning brokenly with his fingers in Dean's hair. They dispatch each other's shirts as they go, Dean's mouth replacing his thumbs once Sam's chest is bare. They're grinding in earnest against each other, a couple layers of denim between them and it's too many.

Sam pulls back from Dean, sinks to the floor between his brother's knees, rakes his nails over jean-clad thighs. He leans in to ghost his mouth across Dean's erection, breath hot, before using his teeth to pop the button and undo the older's zipper. He looks up at Dean with wanton, hazel doe-eyes as he tugs down jeans and boxers, nearly muscle memory after all the years they've been doing this. Sam reaches for Dean's dick, the slit percolating precum which he doesn't hesitate to lap up with keen kitten-licks. He takes Dean in his mouth, tonguing the vein, hallowing his cheeks and letting the tip bump his throat over and over again. Dean groans, throwing his head back and biting his lip. His fingers tangle in Sam's shaggy hair and pulls knowingly, coaxing moans from his little brother.

Dean struggles to stop from coming when he hears Sam gag on him, and especially when he meets Sam's gaze to find the other's eyes vaguely glistening. Dean pulls him off, he spreads his knees and hauls Sam to his feet so he can pull down his shorts. Once he's done, Dean tows Sam back onto his lap, two fingers smearing the precome on his lips and pushing it into his little brother's mouth. Sam sucks on his fingers, coating them with spit so Dean can reach behind and finger him. Dean's fingers are thick and satisfying, moving in and out and bumping Sam's prostate with every other thrust, but too soon Sam's withdrawing the older's hand and lining up with Dean's dick.

They used to take their time to prep, but Sam loved the burning stretch. He buries his face in the crook of Dean's neck, arms thrown around big brother, and gasps as he lowers himself past the head, thighs trembling. He's moaning so sweetly, begging for more with little whimpered "Dean"s and Dean complies, thrusting up into Sammy in one swift movement. He's buried in tight heat, Sam whining against his neck, and it's so good. His hips pump in tandem with Sam's moans, slamming into his prostate, and one hand comes up to yank on the younger's hair, jerking his head back so Dean has full access to his throat. He bites on the skin there, marking it up and savoring Sam's cries of pleasure.

Dean's other hand falls to Sam's ass, gripping and pulling and sometimes smacking. He feels his the younger Winchester clench around him, the tell-tale sign of Sam's imminent orgasm, and lets himself buck harder. He closes his eyes with a groan when he feels Sam's come splash across his abdomen, growling when he finishes a few thrusts after and spills in his little brother.

They sit there together, unmoving besides chests heaving as they catch their breath. There's no words exchanged, there doesn't need to be, each brother painfully aware of the other. Dean glances down at Sam, his Sammy, a vision of Gideon he could never truly resist. They sit like that for some time, pulses evening out and skin sticking together, intimately acquainted.

It's easy days like this, days where each boy's sweat consorts with the other's, where the older Winchester sucks the gentle blush of love bites up his brother's neck, where he fucks steadily into his Sammy, that Dean forgets the outside world. There's no work, no John, no monsters, just damp skin and the pleased moans they pull from each other's throats.


End file.
